The Andarian Affair

by Jones, Loren K.

  “It’s a long story, Shari,” Stavin said, putting pressure on her to go back into the house. “For the most part, though, it’s to give you someone to keep Karlin busy while you’re teaching. He does get insistent when he wakes up, middle of class or not.”

  Sharindis tilted her head to the side again, then said, “Very well. Sallin, come here please.” She held her hand out and Sallin immediately came forward to grasp it. Stavin and Charvil had explained about Shari’s lack of vision on the trip, so she wasn’t surprised by Shari needing help.

  “How can I help you, Mistress?”

  “I don’t know yet. Marinis, can you see to Sallin while Stavin and I go upstairs?”

  There was a hint of humor in Marinis’ voice as she said, “Of course, Shari. Sallin, come with me and bring those things with you. We’ll have to find you a proper place to sleep and get you settled.”

  Stavin and Sharindis were only peripherally aware of Sallin and Marinis. They went to the stairs and up to their room, and Shari helped Stavin out of his armor. “I’ve missed you so much, Stavi,” she murmured in a breathy whisper that sent shivers up his spine. Then their lips came together and there was no more time for talk.

  Later, as they snuggled, she traced circles on his back and said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I could barely contain myself until we got to our room.”

  “Whatever it is, I’m enjoying it,” Stavin said, then laughed when she tickled him. “That’s not fair.”

  Sharindis hummed and settled back. “So, tell me about Sallin.”

  Stavin told the story as he’d seen the events, and what Sallin had told him on the road. “I don’t know what prompted me to hire her, but I think she’ll be a big help when I’m in the lowlands.”

  Sharindis nodded. “Perhaps. What does she look like?”

  Stavin thought back. “She looks like Ahvana at that age, but with blunter features. Brown hair, brown eyes,” he said as he visualized the girl’s face, “wide mouth. Good teeth. No blemishes that I could see.”

  “Is she pretty?”

  Stavin chuckled as he figured out what she was driving at. “Not really. She’s not ugly, not like Jannin,” he shook his head as he mentioned the most unfortunate of the valley’s girls, “just sort of plain. The kind of girl no one pays attention to.”

  Sharindis sighed and settled back against the pillows. “Very well. You’re right about my needing help with Karlin. Mom had Var helping me, but he’s got to devote his full attention to his training now. Sora has been lending a hand as well.” She chuckled. “She’s turned into quite a milk cow and can feed Karlin and Noral at the same time.”

  Stavin laughed for a moment. “I’m going to tell her you called her that.”

  “She knows. Last time I said something, she just said, ‘Moo,’ and kept feeding the boys.”

  It was late in the day when Stavin and Shari came down stairs. Karlit saw them coming and smiled. “Well, Stavin, the council has already sent a summons for you--for tomorrow. It seems your Trading House is even more valuable to the community than anyone expected.”

  Stavin smiled and shrugged. “Someone should have been watching Trader Bel’Serva more closely, Dad.”

  “That’s the consensus of the community as well, as far as I’ve heard. Your mother has Sallin working in the kitchen, so sit down and tell me what you were thinking when you hired her.” Stavin told his father Sallin’s story, and Karlit’s eyebrows drew down when he got to the end. “I’m surprised you let him live.”

  “I almost killed him, but I didn’t think it was a good idea. Gods Above know I wanted to, but I just didn’t think I should.”

  “Thinking is something you’re good at. There’s something else that you should be thinking about, Stavin: your own home. You’re married and have a child now. You need to get out on your own.”

  Stavin’s face froze as his mind raced. “I--We should have moved out last winter,” he said as he continued to consider the idea. “It was just that--”

  “I can’t see well enough to run my own household,” Sharindis said as she held his arm.

  “But you have Sallin now,” Karlit pointed out. “And you can certainly afford your own household.” Stavin nodded mutely and Karlit continued. “Farlit will be bringing his family back here soon. What your mother and I were thinking was that you and Far could change places. The little house that he and Delia are in is getting too small for their family.”

  “Shari?” Stavin asked as he looked at his wife. Her expression answered before she spoke. She looked stunned in a happy way that Stavin had never seen before.

  She spoke in a soft, wonder-struck tone as she said, “I never thought I would live in my own home, Stavin. After my accident, I thought I would be living with my parents or Kahn for the rest of my life.” She was smiling even though there was a tear trickling down her cheek. She whispered, “My own home.”

  Karlit chuckled. “I think she likes the idea.”

  Stavin looked at his father and asked, “Now, or come winter?”

  “Winter is soon enough,” Karlit answered.

  Sallin came in then and said, “Masters and Mistress, the evening meal is ready.”

  Everyone sat at the table except Sallin, who stood respectfully by the sideboard as Karlit and Marinis invoked the blessing of the Gods Above. Marinis turned her head and said, “You may serve now, Sallin.”

  Sallin served all of them, then stood aside and waited to see if any of them needed anything else. She waited patiently as they ate and immediately cleared the table as soon as they were finished.

  Stavin caught her attention as she took his plate and asked, “Did you eat yet?”

  “No, Master Stavin. I’ll eat after I clean up.”

  Stavin looked at his mother, then at Sallin and said, “You may eat first, Sallin. The dishes can wait a bit.”

  She looked at him carefully, then bowed. “Thank you, Master Stavin.”

  Chapter 4

  THE ELDERS’ COUNCIL MET EARLY THE next morning, and Stavin was summoned. He found Charvil waiting for him as well, facing the Council.

  Mikal Kel’Kaffrey had been chosen as the new Chief Elder when Sorval Kel’Davin had retired, and now he considered Stavin silently for a moment before speaking. His hair was still mostly brown, being younger than average for the Council, and his eyes were light brown, like most of the men of Kel’Kavin.

  “Stavin, your skill and status saved us thirty-five gold crowns on our shipment. How good of a deal do you think you made?”

  Stavin came to attention before answering. “Chief Elder, I made a good deal, but not an extraordinary one. The shipment I sent from Aravad last season cost seven gold Kavadian crowns, but it included two crowns for shipping.” He paused and sighed. “If I was as good as Kethlan Kel’Vandar, I believe I could have gotten this shipment for twelve Farindian crowns.” His mouth was twisted into a wry grin, but there was a trace of sadness in his eyes for his lost friend.

  “Is it your opinion that the Traders in Kahrant’s Pass have been cheating us?” Warmaster Kel’Carin asked.

  “Very much so, Warmaster,” Stavin answered, locking eyes with Barvil. “They have been at least doubling the price. Maybe even more than that.”

  “I think Sahren would have agreed,” Barvil said as he looked at his colleagues and stood. “I now lay before the Council a proposal that we stop buying from Kahrant’s Pass. Aravad is three days farther away, but with Kel’Aniston shipping for us,” he smiled at Stavin, “we should come out ahead.”

  “Agreed,” Chief Elder Kel’Kaffrey said. One by one the other three Elders agreed as well. “Stavin, we’re going to use your House to ship goods for the community. We are not, however, going to demand that you do it for free.” He smiled as Stavin’s brow drew down in confusion. “If you agree, shipping our stores will fulfill your family duty to the community. We’ll also allot the necessary extra feed for your mules. You’ll need more wagons, though.”

  Stavin t
hought furiously for a moment, then bowed. “I agree, Sir,” he finally replied.

  “Good. As for Trader Bel’Serva,” Mikal paused and looked round the room, “we will express our--displeasure--at a later date.”

  Charvil stepped forward now and bowed to the Council. “Elders, as you commanded I have chosen a double-hand of warriors to go south with us. Actually, all of the veterans who went with us to Kahrant’s Pass except Jorvan and Elval want to go.” He stopped and grinned down at Stavin. “Elval refused when he found out that Sallin wasn’t going to be cooking for us this time.” While Stavin sniggered, he again spoke to the Council. “Wallin Kel’Markat and Dennil Kel’Rovan round out our group.”

  “Very well, Charvil,” Chief Elder Kel’Kaffrey said as he nodded. “Warleader Kel’Aniston, while you technically outrank three of these men--”

  Stavin bowed deeply, interrupting the Chief Elder. “I understand, Sir. I haven’t finished my five expeditions yet.”

  Chief Elder Kel’Kaffrey nodded his head deeply, but he never took his eyes off Stavin. “No, you haven’t. You seem to be one for setting precedents, Stavin. This has never been an issue before, but I think you know that. I’m glad you understand why you are still the lowest ranking of your group.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Stavin answered.

  Charvil looked down at Stavin. “We are leaving in the morning.”

  Stavin snapped back to attention and replied, “I’ll be ready, Sir.”

  * * *

  The group rode in a column of twos, with Stavin and Dennil bringing up the rear. “As always,” Stavin grumbled as they rode out of the valley. Dennil was ten years older than Stavin and had earned his star the previous season as the leader of one of the teams that had gone to Trade Town. He was none too happy about bringing up the tail either.

  “How did I let the Warmaster talk me into this?” he grumbled to Stavin as they rode.

  Stavin grunted, “Force of habit: No one says no to the Warmaster.”

  Dennil nodded his agreement and wrapped a bandanna across his nose and mouth.

  The six-day ride down to Trade Town went without incident, and soon Charvil was leading his men among the Traders. He spotted a man wearing the badge of the caravansary manager pinned to his Master’s vest and walked directly to him. “Your pardon, Master Trader, but do you know of a caravan that is headed to Twin Bridges?” he asked the caravansary manager.

  “I do,” the man answered, but his eyes were focused behind Charvil on the field of stars his men wore. “Why do you ask?”

  “We are in search of employment, and desire to go to Twin Bridges.”

  The caravansary manager licked his lips. “You are an unusual group. So many veterans. What happened to your usual ‘two hands and a brain’ team?”

  “We were late getting out,” Charvil replied. “Could you direct us to the proper caravan?”

  The man nodded. “There are two caravans going to central Evandia, and one small shipment that only has three wagons. This way, please,” he said and led the way, threading his way across the caravansary to a caravan of ox carts.

  “Master Trader Bel’Borva,” he said to the trader as they approached, “these fine warriors are seeking employment for the trip to Twin Bridges. Have you secured guards yet?”

  “No, I haven’t. Few good men available this late,” he replied in a heavy Reynadian accent. “What do you ask?” he asked, looking at Charvil.

  “The standard five silver crowns per day, plus meals.”

  The trader shook his head. “Cannot afford so much. Can afford three.”

  Charvil shook his head and turned to the manager. “Who else is going our way?”

  The manager took a deep breath. “There is another caravan, but they are going to Kolovad, not Twin Bridges.”

  Stavin said, “It’s ten days by wagon from Kolovad to Twin Bridges, Sir. Six by horse.”

  “Lead us to them,” Charvil said, motioning for the manager to lead the way.

  The next caravan was a long series of wagons drawn by mules, and each wagon bore the stamp of the Fel’Eldan Trading House. Charvil took one look and shook his head and growled, “We don’t deal with Fel’Eldan.”

  The manager nodded. “Unfortunately, those are the only two caravans going to central Evandia.”

  “We’re going to have to take the three crowns a day,” Charvil said in a dispirited tone. “Ox carts are so slow we’ll probably make more in the long run.”

  “There is the other option,” the manager said, catching Charvil’s attention again. “It’s not a caravan, though. I don’t know how much they will be willing to pay.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s three wagons belonging to the Evandian House of Fel’Carvin.”

  “Madam Elain?” Stavin asked, pushing forward.

  The manager looked at him for a moment, his eyes going round as he looked at the golden armor--and the hollowed star on Stavin’s shoulder. He took a deep breath and said, “Yes, Madam Elain Fel’Carvin.”

  Stavin looked up at Charvil and shrugged. Charvil nodded. “We’ll talk to them.”

  The woman the manager led them to was a dark-haired beauty who was approximately the same age as Charvil, and she looked them over carefully. “You want to hire on as guards?”

  “We do. It is our understanding that you are going to Twin Bridges.”

  The woman looked at the two men behind her and asked, “What do you think?”

  “I think it beats the risk of being robbed on the road, Hellin,” the first man answered. “This shipment isn’t exactly a secret, and even Mom’s reputation can’t stop fools who don’t know about her.” The second man just nodded his agreement.

  The woman turned to Charvil and said, “I’ll pay three silver crowns per day, plus meals.”

  Stoval nudged his big brother’s elbow. “These wagons will be a lot faster than those ox carts, Char. Plus, everyone knows of House Fel’Carvin. At least they can be trusted in Trade. I’ve never heard of Bel’Borva.”

  Charvil glared at his little brother, but all Stoval did was grin. He said, “Very well,” as he turned back to the woman. “When do you leave?”

  “Two more days,” she replied. “The shipment isn’t complete yet.” She smiled as the warriors milled about, but her expression froze when she saw the small figure in golden armor. “Gods Below,” she whispered.

  “Trader?” Charvil asked, then followed her gaze. “Oh, yes. I should have mentioned that Friend of Evandia Stavin is one of my men.”

  Hellin began smiling very broadly. “Mother is going to be so pleased.”

  “Ma’am?” Charvil asked as Stavin walked to his side.

  “Perhaps I should properly introduce myself. I am Hellin Fel’Baldan. Elain is my mother.” She bowed slightly to Stavin. “Friend Stavin, or should I call you Master Trader Kel’Aniston?”

  “Friend Stavin will do, Ma’am,” Stavin replied with a slight bow. He could see the family resemblance now, despite her brown hair. “Are you Elain the Sixteenth?”

  “No, that’s my big sister,” she replied, then added a slight chuckle. “I’m the third child.” She smiled deeply and motioned the men closer. “Friend Stavin, please let me introduce my husband, Greval, and my big brother, Jordav.” She paused as Stavin nodded his head deeply to each man, and they bowed in return. “Perhaps I should go ahead and assure you that this is a completely legitimate cargo.” She smiled impishly. “There’s a silk merchant from Reynadia who comes here every five years. Mother has a deal with him, and we take delivery here rather than in Twin Bridges. As Evandian Master Traders, our taxes are lower than his would be, and he passes half the savings on to us.”

  “I can see to the taxes for you--for half your savings,” Stavin said with a grin.

  Hellin grinned right back. “You and Corinne are going to get along wonderfully.”

  Stavin wanted to take advantage of the delay to make other arrangements as well. He caught Charvil’s attention as soon as He
llin turned away. “Sir, I’d like to send a message to Aravad,” he said as soon as Charvil was looking at him.

  “What message, Stavin?” Charvil asked as he looked down at him.

  Stavin pulled a slip of parchment out of his pouch. “It’s to the wainwright I bought the other wagons from. I want to commission sixteen more wagons.” He grinned as Charvil took a step back. “House Kel’Aniston is going to need them to ship the valley’s supplies.”

  Charvil shook his head. “I think you should wait a bit, Stavin. We can buy the wagons in Twin Bridges or another Evandian town and take them up ourselves. That many wagons would require a pre-payment, and you don’t have a representative in Aravad.”

  Stavin almost cringed. “I didn’t think of that, Sir.”

  Charvil smiled and patted his shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about it right now, Stavin. Besides, you might not need them.”

  “Sir?”

  Charvil chuckled as he shook his head. “Stavin, those three Trading Houses the king gave you must have had some wagons.”

  Stavin thought for a moment, then nodded. “You’re right, Sir.” He shook his head as he laughed. “I don’t know why, but I keep forgetting about them.”

  “You haven’t laid your hands on them, so they’re not real yet. Wait until you actually see what you have before you buy more.”

  Stavin smiled and came to attention, then bowed deeply. “Yes, Warmaster.”

  Chapter 5

  SHARINDIS RETURNED TO HER DUTIES AT the Archive the day after Stavin left. She was doing her best to get used to having Sallin help her, and she decided that the first thing she needed to do was see how much the girl knew. They were walking to the Archive in the early morning light with Sallin carrying Karlin when she started asking questions.

  “Sallin, can you read or write?” she asked.

  “No, Mistress,” Sallin answered.

  “Figure?”

  “Some, Mistress. Enough to give change at the inn, Mistress.”

  Sharindis smiled and said, “You don’t have to call me mistress all the time, Sallin.”